


Constant

by fuckyeahlucifersupernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mark of Cain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3952747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural/pseuds/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel always has a way of finding him....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constant

Nothing of Dean is all-the-way his. He is the collection of borrowed parts and inherited sin. The Mark of Cain used to sit as a brand upon his arm, tiny microbes and bugs of the Devil’s curse digging and invading his veins. It’s no longer a brand, now, it’s simply _him_. Those microbes and bugs process the waste in his system, gnaws on the chunks of humanity left — without them he’d die. _He knows it._ He embraces it and it embraces him back. A part of him wants to fuck up so badly that he won’t even be able save himself. 

_This_ seems like a start. 

The evolution, as Dean calls it, has come at the precipice of change. Heaven remains unstable after Metatron’s downfall and Hell has become the dumping grounds for all souls. Dean thought he’s seen shit hit the fan, but when no one is telling who goes where when they croak, Hell bears the brunt of it. Souls pile upon souls in Hell, causing the plane of existence to become engorged until it suddenly burst. There is a particular sound the world gives when it becomes fractured by the weight of both Heaven and Hell. It’s a broken, sweet whine that makes one’s gut twist and bones itch. 

Just wanting to get out — to escape — only reinforces the trap. He’s learned that with the Mark. The more he fights and fights, the stronger it becomes. The more he tries to fix every fucking single thing, the greater the problems become. The more you run from it, the more it clings onto your skin like cigarette smoke. So, instead, Dean does the opposite, he does what terrifies him the most.

Dean doesn’t know where Sam is and it’s best he doesn’t know. It’s probably safer for the both of them. He does know where Castiel is, the semblance of an angel always managing to find him. Dean suspects the angel has been following him, but Dean hasn’t looked over his shoulder in years. He remembers Castiel finding him in a cheap motel down by New Mexico’s border. There is so much blood and gasoline in the air that it’s almost nauseating, but Dean remains put. The motel is in ruins, outside a truck burns, and the only response Dean could give about the charred scene is that he can’t fucking stand obnoxious assholes. 

Cas found him, brows furrowed and sleeves rolled up. Dean smiles, but it’s more of him barring his teeth in warning. Cas continues on, telling him of how he can be saved — redundant crap. He doesn’t know why it makes him angry. He doesn’t know why it makes him want to gnash his teeth and snarl at the angel to shut up. Dean does so and his old friend winces at the rise of his voice, the venom dripping down his chin. Castiel, to Dean’s surprise, only responds by laying his hands on him. He hisses when Grace touches his flesh, his fingers moving to the First Blade, but Castiel does something remarkable: he heals him. 

No matter how many lives Dean takes, how many towns he desecrates, Castiel is always there to lay his hands on him. 

The Mark of Cain has consumed half of his body by the year 2017. It’s ruby lines stretched across his skin, angry and throbbing to the beat of his heart. He ripped Lucifer’s throat out with his teeth a year or so back. It didn’t kill Lucifer, recalling the way he felt the Mark suddenly turn on him at the gesture, violently keeping him pinned. Dean won’t lie — it was the most thrilling fucking feeling in the world and he howled for more. Dean still licks his teeth, hoping to find remnants of blood shoved somewhere between his molars or saturating the inside of his mouth. Sometimes when boredom strikes him will he try to hunt down the Devil. So far no luck. 

Dean has found that as the years pass, he has forgotten a few things. Dean doesn’t remember the color of his eyes anymore. Doesn't remember the taste of food, but that may be because he hasn’t eaten in months and food always seems to taste like ash. He remembers Castiel’s though, but that may be because the angel has managed to find him once more. 

“Do you think I lost weight?” Dean inquires with humor, words a low drawl as he watches the angel lay his hands on his torn open belly. A hunter managed to slit his gut open with a knife a few hours back and he hasn’t tended to it, the scent of his innards growing warm turning the air rancid. 

Castiel doesn’t comment. He has grown more haggard and gaunt over the years. Dean knows whatever it is that is still powering Castiel is losing its juice. It’s been forty minutes and he can still feel his skin trying to stitch itself back together. Dean suggested borrowing from others to help Cas fix him up. Taking their shinbones to carve him a stronger jaw, using another’s intestines to fix his own — why not build a new product? _Just keep my pretty eyes intact,_ Cas, he jokes, still not quite sure as to the color that once laid underneath the tar film over his eyes. 

“You know,” Castiel begins wearily, his red stained fingers still against his skin, “you can still be saved.” 

Dean laughs, a harsh bark of sound. Castiel is a broken record, but he can’t ever find the energy to punch the angel for it. So he laughs, shooting an irritated look at the determined angel. The laughter dies down to an uncomfortable silence. Dean takes a moment to enjoy the awkward shift of limbs Castiel engages in, his brows managing to furrow even more. 

“Why the fuck do you even care, Cas? Enlighten me,” Dean finally huffs out when he’s had his fill. 

Castiel shakes his head, a ghost of a smile stretching on his lips, “I always have cared. I always will.”

**Author's Note:**

> _Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!_


End file.
